Markus was a lone Kindred, his position within the hierarchy allowed for little true social interaction, and he desired even less. He had only truly cared for one being, and as it stood, he was alone; exactly as he wished to be. He was well respected, though largely disliked within the Sabbat. He was fanatical about his Faith, and had never sired a Childe. Had he not held such an esteemed rank, it's likely he'd have been killed by a fellow vampire. Honour was honour, but pretentious and insufferable zealots were something else.
"Well that's one less follower to our cause" Markus thought as he watched Lilith tear the head off a fellow Cainite. The other vampires reacted as one would expect, with surprise, horror and delight. The filthy ghouls didn't react at all. Naturally. Oh how Markus hated ghouls. Dirty, grotesque little monstrosities that could never believe in Caine, and therefore not truly serve him. Markus would have interjected to Lilith's overreaction, but honestly, it wasn't worth his time. He was an older vampire, and a patient one, he had no reason to save the "life" of a fool who would test the patient of one such as Lilith. At that moment, he was more concerned with avoiding the inevitable blood splatter and viscera, not wishing to blemish his perfect suit. Wearing such attire to battle was, of course, ridiculous, but Markus liked his suits, and he cared little for battle. In short, style won out over sense. His lust for blood was quelled somewhat, as he had earlier satiated the Beast in a debaucherous affair with a young woman from a nearby suburb.
The Archbishop had offered surprising credence to this plan of David's, but he liked the young Cainite. He had class, and though his penchant for Dominating was less appealing, at least he understood that propriety had its place even in the damned. He turned and looked at the manic woman who'd just decapitated an ally. Unlike David, Lilith was everything Markus reviled in vampires, not acting at all in the vein of a true Sabbat. She was vulgar, wasteful and above all, undignified. That said, she had not done anything to encourage his wrath, only his disdain. Markus was adjusting his sleeves as the call to arms had been issued. He attempted to check his hair, but with no reflection, it was more challenging than one would like. The Army of Caine rushed to battle and swarmed toward the unsuspecting city. Like a Biblical flood, this wave would cleanse the area of the unbelievers, of the heretics. His conviction strengthened, Markus smiled and threw his fist swiftly to the left, smashing a tree in half. He was not especially strong for his kind, particularly considering his age, but Markus could still engage in more barbaric violence, if required. "Still got it" he said. It had been centuries since Markus last went to battle, truly went to battle. There had been uprisings of course, small beings who had wished to unseat him and his religiously conscientious rule, but they were dealt with swiftly. While not strong, Markus did have a talent. His power lay in the Lasombra Discipline of Obtenebration.
"In Chess, it is wise to move the Bishop early" Markus said calmly, almost jokingly, but as Lilith was his only company, humour was unlikely. "I'm close enough" Markus finished before leaping forward, a veil of shadow covering his form as he descended toward the city. His target was a supposed Angel, an agent of the Creator. This prospect intrigued Langbourn. A being from the Heavens meeting a creature of the damned? It was a delicious concept. Perhaps he could convince her to serve God as an agent of Caine? Markus did not believe this to be beyond his reach, after all, his cunning was legendary. At least, in his dominion. Deciding the best place to meet an Angel was in a House of God, Markus made for the Church.
Archbishop Markus Langbourn was alone, but the shadows were ever his ally.